


Made Real by the Speaking of It

by FleetofShippyShips



Series: Prompted Harry Potter Works [38]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, HP: EWE, Hermione is bad at feelings, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 16:31:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13275438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetofShippyShips/pseuds/FleetofShippyShips
Summary: Prompt: 'She watched her walk through the door, helpless'





	Made Real by the Speaking of It

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by sarcastic-seagoat.

She watched her walk through the door, and was helpless to stop herself from reaching out. When her hand closed over Pansy’s wrist, it felt like a hand closed over her own throat. Whatever words she could have accompanied the gesture with were stolen, along with her breath.

Unable to speak, she just gripped Pansy’s arm tight to stop her from leaving.

Halfway out the door, Pansy seemed likewise frozen, as if, like Hermione, the shock of Hermione undermining all her own words by reaching out had stolen her words too.

The silence lingered, and Hermione could hear her own breathing, harsh, quickening. For all that she’d just told Pansy that they had no future, that it was all a silly summer fling, and that summer was over, she couldn’t bear the sight of her walking away.

Just like she couldn’t handle the truth of her own feelings, and the way they shattered all her future plans.

“Don’t go,” she managed to gasp. It was low, but so full of desperation that it made her cringe and clutch at Pansy’s arm more tightly.

After a moment, Pansy turned, and regarded her with a stony expression.

“You just told me to leave,” she said coolly. “Which is it, Hermione? Are you even capable of making up your mind?”

Stepping closer, until there were only a few centimetres between them, Hermione gripped Pansy’s other arm too. As if it could actually keep Pansy in place if she wanted to go. But Pansy didn’t want to go, and Hermione knew it. She’d known all along that what they had been doing had meant so, so much more to Pansy. And like a fool, she’d held herself above it all. Pretending that every time she reminded Pansy it was just casual that it was just that.

Only it hadn’t been casual for her either. More like an epiphany. Like her eyes had been cleared of a fog. A silly flirtation that had been just a little too tempting for her to resist, with its excitement and rebelliousness, a Slytherin after all, and Pansy at that, instead had been more of a shattering realisation.

All thoughts of it being a bout of youthful experimentation were gone. All that awkwardness with Ron, that seemed more the experimentation now.

But even knowing this, she’d thought herself so superior. She’d thought she could just push it all away, and go back to her plans. Her goals. Her life laid out all organised and attainable in measured steps.

All to be undone by her uncontrollable emotion, and three months with a woman who was nothing like she’d ever expected, and unlike any she’d likely meet again.

“Don’t go,” she repeated, softer, closing her eyes. After what she’d just put Pansy through, the argument, the rejection, the harshness of her own words, she doubted Pansy would stay.

After what seemed like forever, Pansy gently pried her arms from Hermione’s hands, and Hermione’s breath caught on a sob. It welled up in her, fast and fierce. Categorising it never helped in controlling it. It spilled out, and she hid her face behind her hands.

Pansy sighed, audible even over Hermione’s gasps. “If you really want me to stay— if you really want—”

Breaking off a second time, Pansy touched the backs of Hermione’s wrists gently, and pulled her hands away, until Hermione was forced to look at her through teary eyes.

“What was all that then?” Pansy asked, letting Hermione’s wrists go, and folding her arms. “All that talk of casual, and flings, and meaningless? What was all that if this is what you really want? To continue?”

Hermione sniffed, and wiped at her face as if it could stop the tears from continuing now that she’d let them out. But she never could get them to stop once they started, not for a long time.

“I thought… I thought…”

Pansy sighed again, and rubbed at her forehead. “You were overthinking something more likely,” she muttered.

“I didn’t factor it in,” Hermione said in a rush.

Pansy frowned at her, as if she didn’t understand, and Hermione cringed at the idea of explaining her own stupidity.

“Factor what in? To your life plans, I assume. You are the type,” Pansy said in another mutter. “Factor what in then? Being a lesbian? Being bisexual? Still claiming you’re straight but with this… this… dalliance staining your perfect record? What?”

Hermione bit her lip, because it was none of that, and she couldn't say it. She hated it. It spoiled everything. It would get in the way of everything.

The longer she stayed silent, the angrier Pansy looked. Angrier than when Hermione was telling her that it was over, and that it had meant nothing.

“I knew better than to get involved with someone who didn’t know what they wanted,” Pansy hissed, more to herself than Hermione. “But you were so… so…”

With a groan, Pansy gestured at her helplessly. “Is this how Weasley felt when you were done with him then? Merlin, I feel sorry for him now. Sorry for a Weasley!”

She turned to leave again, and Hermione felt that feeling she’d only ever experienced in a crisis before. When her mind went quiet, and she just acted. She couldn’t have stopped the words if her life had depended on it, as they tore out of her.

“I don’t want you to go because I love you!”

Pansy froze all over again, and Hermione covered her mouth with her hands as if she could take it back. But she couldn’t. It was out there now. Made real by the speaking of it. And now that Pansy knew, Hermione couldn’t return to her plans. She couldn't push it away.

If she had learnt anything about Pansy in the last three months, it was that she took hold of anything good in her life, and never let it go. If Hermione didn’t care for her, she could have walked away, even if she didn’t want to. But now that Hermione had said _that_ , she knew Pansy wouldn’t let her go.

And she didn’t want her to.

Even though it spoiled all her plans, and she’d have to plan everything all over, and factor Pansy in, factor in another person to a time where she had depended on being alone, to do more, _be_ more, she didn’t want her to go.

Torn between wanting something desperately, and yet being utterly terrified of it, she stood there frozen, unable to move, and scarcely able to breathe. Waiting.

Turning slowly, Pansy looked at her, and Hermione only had a moment of terror that Pansy might not even believe her, before Pansy was sweeping her up in one of her tight embraces that spoke of never letting go, and kissing her as if it was for the last time, when really, it was nowhere close.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been far too long since I wrote these two! Hopefully I did okay!


End file.
